


Why So Serious?

by Ellionne



Series: Some Men Just Want To Watch The World Burn [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Diary Tom, Harley!Tom, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Loosely Based on Joker (Batman), M/M, Manipulation, Mind Healer Tom, Murderer Harry Potter, Pretty Tom, Tom Riddle-centric, joker!harry, on his journey to, patient harry, snakeface
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27236248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellionne/pseuds/Ellionne
Summary: Before he could dwell on the differences he caught sight of Harry. Sweet innocent Harry who looked again like he wanted to eat him alive. A faint blush high on his cheeks.„Look at you.“ His voice was rough and breathy. „As though we were made for each other… Beauty and the Beast. Of course, if anyone else calls you beast, I’ll rip their lungs out.“
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: Some Men Just Want To Watch The World Burn [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022239
Comments: 36
Kudos: 266
Collections: NW14_Collection





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Do NOT repost, recreate or translate.**
> 
> ... it is my first attempt at something with the resemblance of a plot, please be nice ;-;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Sage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeuroWriter14/pseuds/NeuroWriter14) for proofreading, my enablers for bullying me and [ rosie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosie_sparks/pseuds/Rosie_sparks) for her prompt <3

_Harry Potter - the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Vanquisher of You-Know-Who._

Tom closed his eyes and leaned back into his chair with a content sigh. Today was the day. He had bided his time. He had manipulated and he had plotted. Until he, finally, got chosen; chosen as Harry Potter's new mind healer. 

He focused back on the heavy file at his otherwise cleared desk.

Harry Potter, who had since his arrival at the Bethlem Magical Hospital almost four years prior, driven more mind healers into retirement than all of the other patients combined managed over the last three decades. 

Attached to the file was a photograph. The fourteen-year-old beamed widely from within and winked playfully; the right side of his face was marred with a scar as if a lightning bolt had struck him. 

Since the photography was black and white, Tom couldn’t make out any further details, but he knew of Harry’s green eyes and black hair. 

He hadn’t seen it for himself of course - and neither had dear Ginny before him - but it was common knowledge thanks to the books about the boy, which were written and sold after his parent's death. After he had been hailed as a hero. 

And before he became a ward of the ministry, which put a hold on further book sales and placed Harry at the Asylum. 

The Harry upon the photograph winked again. 

He seemed to be a sweet, joyous boy. Always a smile on his lips, often laughing, hardly taking anything seriously — it had brought him the moniker _The Joker_ among the staff.

Harry was an enrichment for his ward, all of the staff were in agreement, and rarely caused trouble.

But when he did, all hell broke loose. 

Four years prior, when Harry was at the tender age of ten, the Ministry was notified about a spike of magical energy in a muggle neighbourhood. Further investigation led to the discovery of Harry Potter's home. A home which - while nobody had known for sure - all of wizarding Britain suspected to be within their midst.  
As it turned out, it couldn’t be further from the truth. 

Harry Potter, the Boy-Hero of the wizarding world had been left with his muggle relatives; the sister of his mother, who estranged herself years before he even was born. Nobody knew how his upbringing had been, but the signs which had been found on this day hadn’t drawn a pretty picture. It had drawn a picture that hit a bit too close to home for Tom’s liking. 

The presence of the boy - happily munching on some cake - in the kitchen aside; there had been no indication that he had lived there at all. His clothes had been way too big for his skinny frame. And there had to be a _reason_ , that he was completely unconcerned by the grotesque display of his dismembered relatives, widespread among the first floor of their family home. 

Tom skimmed through the folder till he reached the first few pages. The whole incident was described by clinical words. How the boy brightened further upon seeing the investigators and smiled all over his face. How he was full of joyous laughter after he learned about the fact that he would be a ward of the Ministry and had to go with them. The discovery of the cupboard under the stairs and the implications of it. And finally, the resident magic on his relatives. The dark magic which ripped them apart. The magic which matched young Harry Potter’s. 

As informative as the file was, it didn’t tell about the sham of the officials. But the intentions were clear, if one knew where to look for them and every and all participants would be in for a lot of trouble if any of it would ever be known by the public.

In every other case, the offender would be sent to Azkaban regardless of their age or their reasons. Triple murder by dark magic could not be excused by anyone in the Wizengamot. If it had gotten to the press, sweet Harry would have been shipped away no matter his past _heroic_ deeds.  
But as it was - with young hero Harry Potter being a victim of hateful muggles to the point that his accidental magic reacted as bad as it did - sweet, joyous Harry, who was so delighted to meet fellow wizards and to leave the home of his relatives... 

The official version - confirmed by Aurors, the Wizengamot, and the Minister himself - was that a rough Death Eater had discovered Harry Potter's residence and tortured his relatives before his eyes. While his magic was able to protect himself from bodily harm, the whole incident left him mentally scarred to the point that he wasn’t able to attend Hogwarts a few months later, but had to live under medical observation at Bethlem’s Ward For Troubled Youths. 

Be as it may that the law body as a whole decided to cover up for a triple murder in gratitude for the boy who freed them of a dark lord, they weren’t irresponsible enough to let him loose on his peers. It probably had to do with the fact that those peers happened to be the sons and daughters, nieces and nephews, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren of the people in charge. 

There were the hope and expectation that Harry would take his place as a noble member of society as was his birthright; it was the consensus that they just had to help him overcome his unfortunate childhood. So, despite his stay at the hospital, they arranged for tutors - both academically and estate wise. 

Not that he would ever do so in front of company, but upon reading the early conclusions about Harry Potter's case, Tom snorted dowdy.

Harry might have had an unfortunate childhood, but it was questionable that it was the only reason for his state of mind. Tom would be the first to admit - silently in the safeness of his protected mind - that he himself had had an unfortunate childhood; that the path he had chosen was a dark one. Which _he_ had walked till his early demise at Harry Potter's hands. But even Tom - declared as a rotten egg by Dumbledore on the first day they met - hadn’t started getting truly dark until much later.  
For accidental magic acting as dark as it was in the case of Harry’s relatives, there wasn’t a chance that Harry was as sweet as he seemed to be on a regular day. For a child being a harbour of such darkness, he had to bear a madness that was cause enough for him to be in the place he was now. 

The day Harry Potter would be let loose on society, was the day the downfall of wizarding Britain - if not the world - would begin and the populace would wish for You-Know-Who to come back to life and fight his way on the top.  
Of this, Tom was sure. 

And he wasn’t the only one. 

The first time Harry was placed in the ward went fine and without any trouble. Harry seemed to be an agreeable child, he was enthusiastic about everything and eager to please. The notes in his file strongly advertised his early release. Healers and nurses alike wondered what the always smiling boy was doing in a ward reserved for children and adolescents, who were a danger for themselves or society. 

Then, a few months into Harry’s stay, on a bright and sunny day in early September, again, all hell broke loose. It was a special treat for Tom, that the cause was no other than Albus Dumbledore.

Much to his surprise, Professor Albus Dumbledore, esteemed headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, found that one Harry Potter didn’t board the Hogwarts Express nor attended the sorting ceremony.  
On further investigation, he discovered that with Harry’s placement in Bethlem’s he didn’t qualify for a place at Hogwarts anymore and didn’t get an acceptance letter despite the entry in the book of future attendants upon his birth. 

After researching the matter, Dumbledore managed to find a loophole in Hogwarts’ rulebook, to make Harry’s attendance possible. He only needed one of the healers to give the boy a clean bill of mental health, as well as a letter of inquiry about his attendance from Harry himself, and everything would be in order.  
Since Harry was who he was - Boy-Hero and assumed heavyweight in the future of wizarding Britain - and Dumbledore was who he was - a meddling old fool with way too much influence and connections - it should have been easy to manage. Which British wizarding child didn’t want to attend Hogwarts? And which alumnus, apart from former Slytherins, would be able to defy the great Albus Dumbledore himself such a _small_ wish?

As it went, the _very few_ meetings of Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter were documented with an impressive chunk of parchment in the file on Tom's desk. 

It was just the first visit of Dumbledore that wasn't really documented at all. Except for what happened afterwards. For sweet, friendly Harry threw an unparalleled temper tantrum as soon as Dumbledore managed to say as much as his name. 

As it turned out, Dumbledore was the one to forcibly place Harry with his relatives. A decision, they never ceased to hold against Harry. A decision, which Dumbledore shouldn’t have been allowed to make at all.  
After the death of the Potter’s, Harry was supposed to be placed with one of his godparents - both of them healthy and not imprisoned at this time. It shouldn’t have been predictable that because of outer circumstances neither of them would be able to take on custody barely a week later. But it was for sure a huge factor why Dumbledore's involvement didn’t attract attention earlier.

Tom was terribly disappointed that he experienced Dumbledore's fall from grace nearly two years belated and only secondhand through the newspapers; but his - as of late allowed - study of Harry’s file, which shed more detailed background information on the story, nearly mollified him for the fact that he hadn't been able to experience it, as it happened. 

The file told about the history of Dumbledore's visits, which were eyed more suspicious by the staff the more time flew by. While there was no protocol of the first visit - just a description of Harry’s mental meltdown and of the burst of accidental magic seeping in darkness, as well as his altered behaviour afterwards and ever since - the protocols grew more detailed for each of their meetings.  
It took only this first visit, for Dumbledore to be not allowed to meet the boy without supervision anymore. It didn’t take long till he was banned from visiting him at all, for his terrible effect on Harry’s mental health and his behaviour.

Who could have guessed that esteemed Headmaster Dumbledore would be the reason for hailed Hero Harry Potter to break down and change this drastically.  
The former sweet smiling boy had earned a mad edge. His joyous laughter had gotten a maniac undertone. His bright eyes began to shine with hidden cruelty.

The effect was small but it was startling.  
At least for Tom, who got to read all reports in one go.  
The staff didn’t realize that something in Harry Potter's mind had changed for a while longer. Not even when accidents kept piling up. 

There was a nurse, who started Harry following around. She began to tend to Harry, up until the point when she was found in the garden of the Hospital. Hands cut off, tongue and eyes ripped out, never to be found. She was afterwards suspected to be a child molester.  
Harry was in a particularly good mood on this day.  
The possible connection wasn’t made at this point. 

One employee of the administration, who was in charge of Harry’s trust fund - nothing serious, it was just his job to provide Harry with pocket money or checking his desired owl orders - was found strung up in his office by his own entrails. As it turned out, he used his position to misappropriate some of Harry’s money into his own vault and bragged even about it.  
And why would anybody question Harry’s delighted laughter afterwards? After all, the poor boy had gotten cheated out of his money and the perpetrator would never be able to do it again. 

The _causes_ of those incidents grew smaller with each, while the cruelty only rose higher.

Some other patient who used to steal Harry’s dessert - always treacle tart courtesy of the kitchen staff - was found stuffed with food, to the point his stomach had ripped open.  
Harry, munching pleased on his tart while no other could stomach sweets for weeks afterwards.

A young apprentice who got enthralled by Harry’s presence, and inconvenienced him by following him around and spouting nonsense about wanting to give him her heart. Till the day before Valentine's day when she was found, the rib cage was broken brutally open, heart neatly extracted, and stomped to mush on the ground beside her.  
Harry graciously gifting self-made chocolate to the entire staff, grinning sweet and smug at the same time. 

Tom could only shake his head over the fact that none of these incidents had been handled as the murders they obviously were. No Aurors were called, no tests performed. He was willing to bet his now useless old diary, that all victims had been trenched in the same dark magic as Harry’s relatives.  
It spoke volumes about the subtle control the boy had over the entire staff, that no case was opened. 

And Harry had stayed in control of the staff. Till he spiralled out of his own and started slicing and dicing his way through staff and patients alike. While he had started with somewhat comprehensible reasons, eventually all was needed was a stray comment, an accidental shove, and Harry would lash out. Often enough with lethal consequences. 

It took a long time for the higher up officials to realize something was wrong. Longer than should have been possible. Tom suspected it had to do with the merry band of worshippers Harry managed to gain over his stay. The most notorious, the most dangerous of all the residents flocked to Harry like vultures to dead meat. On top of that, he had charmed quite a few nurses, as well as members of maintenance and guards. No repercussion could sway them, so Harry’s reign was pretty much set.

Again, Tom could only marvel at how Harry had managed it. It was a behaviour that should have been way out of his league. He was, at least at that point, way too young to be able to form his own band of admires to such an extent. Tom was, even as a teen at Hogwarts, an extraordinary leader but it had taken _him_ \- as far as his research could tell - decades to form a band of such extreme loyalty to his followers. Harry managed it in just about two to three years. 

After a change in management, the incidents had attracted attention and were traced back to Harry. Not all, of course, but enough to make for a critical change in Harry’s life.  
His band of worshippers was broken up, the patients got spread on several different facilities, staff members were fired, imprisoned, and were in parts now patients themselves. Harry’s perusing had left its mark on their minds. 

Harry himself was taken to a closed ward with strictly controlled contact with other people. His guards, caretakers, and tutors were on a roaster so that no one would be sucked in by his mind games. The sole exception was his mind healer. It wasn’t a position that could be shared, since it needed trust to work and too much different magic would have unpredictable outcomes. 

But no healer was able to stay for long. In the aftermath of the incidents, every staff member with prolonged exposure to Harry was regularly checked. And no healer was able to make it through the first six months before they were either caught up in Harry’s web or on the verge of a mental breakdown because of the continued exposure to his mind. 

It was also the reason why the requirements for the position as Harry Potter’s mind healer had shifted from „Mastery in Legilimency with extraordinary references as mind healer and connections to speak in one's favour “ to „Mastery in Occlumency with great mental stability and preferably at least a little experience in mind healing“.

Since Tom was both a Legilimens and an Occlumens, seemed particularly difficult to shake up and had a freshly taken degree as a mind healer, he had gotten the job. The absentee competition helped also. The flair of being Harry Potter's mind healer had long since waned in the healer community. 

Merlin, he couldn’t wait to pry Harry Potter's mind open and see the madness for himself. It was bound to be a sight to see. And an asset to utilize.

_Harry Potter - the Murderer, the Madman, the Joker._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Harry met Tom.
> 
> or:  
> The meeting that didn't go as was planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta [Sage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeuroWriter14/pseuds/NeuroWriter14) <3  
> (And special thanks to [J](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyGia/pseuds/TheLadyGia), because, ngl, as much hassle as the editing is, I probably would have disposed of the whole draft without your nudging.)
> 
> I edited out Tom's backstory, which was originally planned as the second chapter - It is now posted as Outtake [I’m Not A Monster](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27784051)

Tom wasn’t able to recall how he had imagined their first meeting to proceed, but it sure as hell wasn’t what had taken place earlier that day. 

_"I like you-“_

Standing alone in his office, taking forced deep breaths and holding himself up just thanks to his hands propped on his desk, Tom was still reeling over Harry's parting words. Over the feel of his magic.  
Dark and violent but comforting all the same. It was obvious it wasn’t a feeling the magic wanted to transmit but somehow… there was a strangely familiar feeling about it, but for the life of him, Tom couldn’t point it out just yet.

Tom took a last steadying breath before he balled his hands tightly into fists, and sat down posed behind his desk. He opened a new notebook that would be solely dedicated to Harry Potter and their sessions together.

The first page was already filled with personalia and other general information but other than that the book was empty, waiting to be filled. 

Unlike his colleagues, Tom didn’t put in summaries of the official file within his notebooks. The reports were filled with observations and assumptions not done by him, so how could he rely on them? Especially in a case like Harry Potter; where his predecessors obviously couldn’t handle the patient.

The reports ranged from declarations of false placement - which in all honesty was probably a right assessment, although not because he should be _out_ of confinement - to warnings about a variety of self-harm tendencies or the possibility of being a danger to society.

Tom leaned towards the last-mentioned from the get-go, and their first session only cemented his hunch. 

oOoOoOo

As was the usual procedure for the first session with a patient of the closed ward, Tom had sat in a non-descriptive room of the Hospital and waited for Harry to be brought in.

The intent was to meet in a neutral room, where the patient couldn't hold the higher ground, but without throwing him into a completely unknown environment. The healer would be already there and settled, appearing to be in control - a strong presence, worthy to be relied on, to open up to.

Sadly, Harry Potter didn't seem to be in the mood to open up. 

He had strolled into the room, grinning like the loon a patient at this particular Hospital usually was and started their session with a jovial sing-songed: "You try nosing around and I’ll chop it off!“ 

Tom’s slowly blink, his only reaction, while the nurse who brought him in, merely laughed it off and told Tom that he had just met the Joker of Bethlem’s, before leaving them alone. 

As Tom watched Harry sprawled out in his chair, he knew instantly that his speculations about Harry were valid. The hidden cruel glint in his eyes gave his easy-going grin an unhinged edge and promised that he was everything but a joker. 

He was serious. 

When Tom didn’t break the tension which built up and up between them, Harry’s maniac mimic suddenly broke into a genuinely amused giggle. 

"Merlin, no need to be so tense, I’m joking! But for real now, how about you tell me about yourself first?”

Tom wasn’t a fool.  
While it was impressive how Harry was able to change his whole demeanour in the blink of an eye, Tom was a Slytherin. He was _the_ Slytherin. He used to eat kids like Harry for breakfast even before he had set a single foot into Hogwarts. 

"What do you want to know?“

"Oh, really now? Great! I don’t care, to be honest. I know your name, of course. I played with it, you know? It makes some particularly nice anagrams, Mr. Tom A Dildo Lover.“ Harry broke off to bite out a laugh in an offsetting tone which would have put a hyena to shame. If it was intended as an insult to Tom, Harry would be in for a disappointment. Tom might have never participated in such childish games, but he had shared a dorm with teenage boys, most importantly with a teenage Abraxas Malfoy. Harry just showed his age, he was fourteen, after all. 

"While I commend you on your creativity, I would prefer Mr. Riddle. Maybe Tom, if you’re comfortable with me calling you Harry.“ 

He used to despise his unoriginal muggle name but fifty years of solitude tended to set one's priorities straight. That aside, _he_ had killed Harry’s family, tried to kill him, and was, strictly speaking, at the end killed by him in return. If there was one person in this world who deserved to call him by his given name, it was probably Harry Potter. He _was_ said to be his equal.

"I’d rather not.” Tom would have laughed about the distasteful face if it weren’t so undignified. “I don’t like being called Harry. And I don’t want to call you Tom, it’s such an average name. I sure hope you don’t plan on doing your name justice.” 

Harry shot a quick smirk his way and Tom was apprehensive about what was about to come. “You could spell dramatically _I am Lord Voldemort,_ but then again you don’t have the face of a _Lord Voldemort._ But I could always just call you _Sir_.“ 

The suggestive, almost leering wink Harry threw at him made him slightly uncomfortable. Harry was just fourteen, after all. It would be questionable, even if Tom would be the meagre eighteen years of age he looked like. Before he could muster up a response, Harry already continued.

"Ah no. Not Sir. It has kind of an inappropriate sexual undertone, don’t you think? Ah! I know. Since you have some say over my life from now on. I’ll just call you, _my Lord._ “ 

The cackle that followed, didn’t allow Tom to mistake Harry's suggestions for anything other than plain ribbing. It would set the wrong tone for their upcoming working relationship to argue over such little things though, so Tom just decided to ignore it for now. 

"Well, then let it be my first question: Why don’t you like to be called by your given name?“ 

"Oh, but my Lord, you can’t just throw such a heavy question in my face - buy me a drink first, would you? Preferably one in a real cup instead of those disposable shit, please.“ Harry seemed to be set in his Joker persona, but Tom could see the way Harry took intently notice of every small reaction of his. He was testing him.

Tom didn’t bat an eye and decided to play along. He called for tea and the room provided them instantly with a service. Harry was right though; while Tom received a perfectly fine cup of steaming tea, Harry received a disposable... thing. How distasteful. Without a word, Tom shoved his cup towards the boy, who only raised an eyebrow before grinning happily again and launched for the cup. 

"Why do we need to talk about little old me? You are so much more interesting. Young, successful and mysterious, as the nurses liked to point out. Tell me about yourself - what jewellery do you like?“

"What jewellery-?“ Tom didn’t wear any jewelry. Never had. He grew up piss poor and was stuck in the diary when _he_ finally got enough money for such trivial things. But he couldn’t imagine wearing jewellery even then.

"Yeah! I bet you would look dashing in a diadem - but it’s kind of flashy, isn’t it? A locket, maybe? Aaah, too gaudy. A ring? Yes, a ring would be great, wouldn’t it?! What’s your size?“

Harry’s gaze was as knowing as it was hungry. Through the whole verbal onslaught, it was focused sharply on Tom. He had an unfavorable experience of feeling like prey. A small mouse, in the eye of a cat - he didn’t like it. 

Even less so, because he had no idea what the other was trying to imply. And there was no mistaking that there was a hidden meaning behind his words. There had to be. 

Since Tom had no idea what Harry was getting at, he utilized an old tactic even though he would have died happy if he had never to resort to his old habits again. Even in his youth, he had despised the social need of flirting jokes with a passion, and solitude hadn’t changed anything about it.

"I’m flattered, but I don’t think a single drink on our first meeting would warrant fishing for my ring preferences yet.“

Harry's eyes widened surprised before he clapped his thigh repeatedly and laughed out loud hysterically. "Oh, a joke for the Joker, how quaint! Although I hope you aren’t aiming to take my position.“ 

If Tom would have blinked, he would have missed it. The disappointed pout on Harry’s lips, his small frown, the brief- red sheen in his iris? Whatever reaction Harry was fishing for, he hadn’t gotten it and Tom was mystified.

Suddenly, Harry’s eyes brightened in an unholy light and he focused again solely on Tom's face. "You know what? I should write it down in my... diary.“ A slow smirk unfolded itself on his lips. 

Tom was lost. His tongue darted out to wet his lips in a nervous gesture he hadn’t used in ages. Alas, as it was, it seemed like the solitary time hadn’t done his people skills any good. And he really didn’t want to go back to his old ways. Too much strain on his patience.

Well, there was always the option to flee forwards. 

"What a brilliant idea, Harry. It's a great way to keep one's thoughts straight and sort through them. I used to write in one myself.“ Tom opted for a winning smile and was rewarded by a groaning Harry, who threw his arms into the air and shouted theatrical "I GIVE UP!“ before he let his hands and face fall on the table with a sigh. 

After a brief moment of silence, Tom honestly didn’t know what to make of that particular reaction, Harry turned his head and squinted suspiciously at Tom. 

"You seriously don’t catch my drift? You’re supposed to be smart, if not even brilliant, you know?“

Tom blinked slowly. 

And as he reopened his eyes, playful Harry was no more and in his place sat a fuming demon, "How can you be that daft?! Do you want to insult me? Insult _us_?“ He took the porcelain cup Tom gave him and hurled it in his direction. To his luck, the wards around the room were supposed to prevent such occurrences. 

Harry came to the same conclusion and attempted pouncing on him, his hands outstretched and formed into claws. He was intercepted by two guards who suddenly appeared and plucked him in a seemingly practised move out of the air. 

Tom was miffed to admit that he hadn’t seen that reaction coming. He knew about Harry’s real inflexion but was caught up in his act regardless. The disgrace. He needed to up his game. It wouldn’t do to follow in his predecessors' footsteps. He was better than that. He was better than all of them, and he would prove it.

Hysterically laughing, Harry was wrestled to the ground while the guards urgently motioned for Tom to leave. He had just crossed the threshold when his blood ran cold in his vines. 

The very air behind him was freezing and burning at the same time. Pregnant with magic, dark as his own - maybe even darker, although that shouldn't be possible. Cutting through the magic was Harry’s voice. Not with words but with hissing. 

Harry Potter, a parselmouth? 

Due to his stunning surprise, the words didn’t register in Tom's mind till the door was shut behind him, but as they did...

_"I like you, but I want to kill you.“_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits where credits are due:
> 
> I've read _Mr. Tom A Dildo Lover_ first in [You Get What You Give](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14462256/chapters/33410763) by [Watermelonsmellinfellon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watermelonsmellinfellon/pseuds/Watermelonsmellinfellon) I think. 
> 
> Also, while drafting, I challenged myself into using [Joker quotes](https://everydaypower.com/joker-quotes/). I don't want to disturb the reading so I'll disclaim them in the A/N.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Harry finally opens up a bit.
> 
> As does Tom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta [Sage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeuroWriter14/pseuds/NeuroWriter14) <3

After the fall out of their first session, Tom took his time to reconsider. 

Harry Potter, a parselmouth - who could have guessed?

He wondered how it came to be. At least, there was no indication that they were anywhere close related. Small mercies. 

Sadly, Tom couldn’t say he knew much of the Slytherin’s family tree by the time he was contained in the diary. Just enough to know of his claim as heir. Since then, there wasn’t much need to do any further research. 

While it peeved him that he wasn’t the only parselmouth around, the possibility to talk with someone in the serpent tongue sounded kind of nice. It also could be a way to build trust with Harry.

Harry was secluded from a young age, there was no way, he knew much about his ability. It would be a safe and easy way into his good graces. Tom could work with it and was even willing to let the fact go that Harry had the ability in the first place. 

The question was, did the boy know he spoke a valid, understandable language as he spat his parting words at Tom? Probably not. 

But how to weigh the fact?

Did it enhance the dangerousness of his words because it was a sincere threat? Or was it just a spur of the moment shout as teenagers were prone to do? He _had_ been rather frustrated as he yelled - not like there had been a valid reason for it. It had to be a demonstration of his madness; how else could an innocent talk about jewellery and diary-writing led to the accusations that Tom was dumb and cause Harry a mental fit? 

Be it as it was, it was a starting point.

Tom didn’t even try to make sense of the other things Harry said before he didn’t have a further talk with him. He didn’t want to make blind assumptions; it would just cloud his view of the real Harry Potter. 

oOoOoOo

Their second session took again place in the unremarkable office. It would continue till they had established any kind of trust with each other. 

After the happenings of their last meeting, Tom wasn’t opposed to guards directly behind the door. He was beyond just capable of defending himself, of course. But he didn’t go through the trouble of earning his mind healer license, just to have it revoked because of a physical attack on his first patient. 

The board didn’t take chances with such incidents and even self-defence was barely an excuse. In their opinion, if a mind healer caused a violet fit in their patients, they obviously weren’t able to do their job properly. 

It just proved that none of the board members had ever met a real, undrugged case of this special ward. There was a particular reason why it was closed and guarded; the wizarding cases of severe madness tended to have particular abilities with their wandless magic. And while Tom didn’t make a habit of lying to himself, he also made it a point to never look too far into his own wandless abilities.

His musings were interrupted by Harry’s arrival. He looked notably more put together than the last time Tom had seen him. His wide grin was back in place, he even managed a somewhat apologizing look in his eyes - when one was inclined to ignore the mischievous quirk of his lips. Ah well, Tom would take what he got. 

“Hello, Ha-“ A small frown on Harry’s face let him break off. “Actually, we never worked over how to address you at our last meeting, did we?“

“Oh, _my Lord,_ are we diving without further ado into the heavy stuff again?“ Harry’s grin was positively predatory. “How about another drink first?”

Tom couldn’t suppress a small cringe. While he had soupçons of grandeur in his youth - imagined his pureblood peers to bow before him - the reminder just didn’t sit well with him any longer. After his time in solitude, the thought alone of surrounding himself with a mass of people was _offsetting,_ to say the least. Nowadays he much preferred one-on-one conversations as a healer. Funny how time could change people. 

“Is there any way to get you to call me by my name?“

Harry cocked his head slightly to the side. Before Tom could dwell on the thought of _why_ Harry broke into bashful laughter. The coy effect was only disturbed by the returned maniac gleam in his eyes.

“Oh, but names are for tombstones, aren’t they? Do you want me to remember yours so I’m able to write it on one?“

Tom knew he should laugh like the nurse did the other day. But he also knew Harry wasn’t joking. It was as he had thought after reading the file for the first time: Harry Potter was dangerous. And there was no way the still ongoing accidents in the Hospital were, well, accidents. 

He had better be on his toes. 

“Of course, you don’t need to call me by my name if you are uncomfortable with it. It would also be agreeable if we go with your previous suggestion.“ Harry laughed, genuinely amused this time.

“Why, I didn’t peg you the type for it, Mr. Dil-”

“I was talking about _Sir.”_ Tom spoke over Harry before he could finish his damned sentence. It wasn’t without cause that he didn’t dwell on the anagram sampling of his youth, there just wasn’t a decent outcome of it. Merlin, he had been such a drama queen in his adolescence. 

“Oh, but of course, _Sir.”_ The quirk on Harry’s lips and the glint in his eyes made Tom question if this was really a good idea. But it was the most preferable outcome, considering the alternatives.

“And what do you want me to call you?“ Tom repeated his previous question.

“Well, I don’t think _Harry_ is appropriate.“ Harry mused with a forlorn gaze. “Why is that? It is your name, after all.“ Harry barked out a short ugly sound. “Is it though? It might graze my birth certificate, but I really can’t remember being called by it. When we define a _name_ as a repeatedly used word to refer to someone, I guess you could go with Joker - or maybe you would prefer Freak or _Boy._ “ Tom perked up at the remarkable animosity towards the word _boy_. Especially since it was on its own way less offensive than the mentioned freak.

But one issue at a time or they wouldn’t get anything done.

“If you won’t allow people to call you by your given name, how should it be able to _become_ your name through repetition?“ Harry looked a long moment into Tom’s eyes, face blank before he broke the contact with a deep sigh. 

“You won’t let it go, will you?“ Despite his earlier behaviour, Harry seemed almost fond of it. 

“I don’t plan on it, I’m here to help you progress.“ Tom phrased it deliberately this way. In the history of Harry’s stay at Bethlem’s, he seemed to always react badly at the mention of someone offering their help. It would be best to figure the severity of the issue out at first chance. 

Surprisingly, Harry just smiled secretively at him.

“You are, aren’t you? Very well, you might call me _Harry_. For the moment at least; I will inform you when I don’t feel like Harry anymore.“ While Tom just wanted to grin a little bit himself at Harry’s exclusive allowance for using his name, there was a little discrepancy that threw him off. 

“ _If…_ you don’t feel like Harry anymore, you mean?“

Harry just winked sunnily. 

oOoOoOo 

From there on, their sessions ran much smoother. 

It felt like Harry’s admittance for using his name opened up some door and he had become way more approachable. 

Of course, if asked every staff member would swear that Harry had been always perfectly approachable. He was their little Joker, after all. But Tom was no fool and regardless of the fact that Harry’s file was thick enough to pass as a book, there wasn’t much in-depth information about the actual state of his mental health, the reasons for the Dursley’s death nor any passable strategy to lead him back into society past his seventeenth birthday. 

They soon moved their sessions away from their assigned room into Tom’s office. It was a step in the right direction and also gave Tom space to open up slightly towards Harry after they had talked about the fact that Harry wasn’t comfortable with sharing some of his most inner thoughts as long as Tom kept himself strictly professional and private. 

Tom was at a point where he would go thus far as saying, they were kind of friends. Naturally, the main focus was still Harry, his past actions, and his mental state but it was nice to feel _understood_. 

He didn’t know how Harry managed it. He was a teenager who had spent most of his life locked away but sometimes, he had the feeling Harry knew him on a deeper level than Tom had ever thought possible, considering how utterly _alone_ he had felt for almost all of his life. 

Maybe it was because of Harry’s voices. Or rather, his voice - singular. It might be a manifestation of his magic to guide him. Magic was omnipresent and, in the end, unsearchable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote in the last chapter was of course:  
>  _I like you, but I want to kill you._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were a few months in their sessions when Harry first mentioned The Voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my beta [Sage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeuroWriter14/pseuds/NeuroWriter14) <3
> 
> I'm glad about my last week's decision to cut the chapter in half. While I'm still not entirely happy with how it turned out, it's _way_ better arranged than before and has even gained around 300 additional words.

“Are you a happy person, Harry?“ Tom inquired in a moment of calm after Harry had finished his enlightening story about one of the nurses. Always the Joker, grinning and laughing as usual. 

Their chit chat with tea and biscuits had become a reoccurring affair over the last months in which Tom was permitted to work with Harry on his own time in his private office rather than official set appointments which the hospital provided. 

Harry was becoming comfortable around him, and Tom was happy to indulge him on occasion by letting him speak about his _non-violent_ outbursts around Bethlem’s.

“Why are you asking?“ Harry was startled. Didn’t he know what a feeling he radiated? 

“Because you were smiling - you’re smiling a lot, in fact. It’s part of the reason why they call you their Joker, I think.“ Harry was silent for a long moment, watching forlornly into space with his head tilted. His good mood seemingly lost to his musings.

“I think, I- I smile because it confuses people. I smile because it’s easier than explaining what is killing me inside. I’m only laughing on the outside. My smile is just skin deep. If you could see inside, I’m really crying. You might join me for a weep.“  
Harry paused shortly, before whispering softly: “All I have are negative thoughts.“

The excitement Tom had felt running through him with Harry’s first honest and meaningful sharing ran cold as his heart ached in sadness for the small child that had endured so much pain that its mind had to break apart to save itself. 

But deep inside, hidden even from his own conscious mind, Tom was glad that it wasn’t him who was feeling such a way.  
And if he had been just a bit more emphatic as a child, it would have been his mind that broke apart. It would have been him, who would have descended into madness, killed people, and been caught doing it. 

But it wouldn’t have been him, who got stored away in an asylum for years - he hadn’t been _Harry Potter_ , orphaned Boy Hero. He had been just Tom Riddle; an orphaned boy and assumed Mudblood. They would have sent him to Azkaban and never looked back.

Strangely enough, their similar circumstances - hero status aside - let him feel for Harry. And wasn’t that a novelty for him; he who used to distance himself from all and everyone?

“Would you like to tell me about these thoughts?“ While they were at a critical point of their session, he didn’t want to pressure Harry when he had just shown vulnerability for the first time.

Harry took a long moment for himself. For the first time, Tom had the impression he was able to see the _real_ Harry. There was no smile, for one. His face was blank - as blank as the face of a real Slytherin - as he stared intently into Tom's eyes. 

It was obvious that Harry pondered a heavy decision. Tom did his best to exclude the calm and approachable air he had used in his Hogwarts days as a prefect and later head boy. He _wanted_ Harry to trust him. All musings - as vague as they might have been - about killing the boy that had vanquished _him_ were long gone. 

Tom was able to _feel_ in Harry’s presence. It was almost disconcerting to realize how empty his world had been before Harry. Tom was at a point where their talks were almost as much therapy for himself as they were for Harry. 

His musings were disturbed when Harry settled back into his chair and took a deep breath.

“They aren’t thoughts. They’re voices.“

Tom’s always running mind came to a stop. 

“You have voices in your head?“ While he was surprised by the admission, now that Tom pondered the possibility, it would explain a lot about Harry’s behaviour. All the head tilting, as if he were listening; the mood swings, as if someone had poisoned his mind with whispered words that no one else could hear.

“No! Ah, well yes - but just the one voice. Vee.” Harry seemed excited to share the existence of _Vee,_ as he stopped and tapped his lips with a finger, contemplative looking up to the ceiling before he shrugged it off. “Technically there is also another voice but I guess that’s just my own thoughts.“  
_Technically_ two voices. Tom was apprehensive. It never bodes well if magical folk started to hear multiple voices. One voice? A possibility - in comparison - a simple case of mental health problems. But multiple voices? These cases were usually not placed in Bethlem’s but rather in St. Mungos. There was no known case in which a cursed object wasn’t involved when a Wizard or a Witch had heard multiple voices. Harry had been in the care of various mind healers for years - how was it possible that it never was discovered before?

For sure, Tom couldn’t be the first adult Harry confided in, could he? Despite the cold dread due to the discovery of multiple voices, Tom felt a warm tingle; he probably _was_ the first adult - the first _person_ \- Harry placed his trust in.

“Tell me about these voices then.“ 

“No need to look so glumly, Sir. I know the voices in my head aren’t real, but sometimes their ideas are absolutely awesome.“ Harry’s face, lit up with happiness and delight. Tom couldn’t bring himself to tell him that a voice, nevermind two, in his head couldn’t be good.

Although-  
“What happened to the Dursleys, was it an idea of your voices?“

Harry’s lips stretched into a wolfish grin that seemed impossibly wide, showing off all his teeth. 

  
  
  
  


While their talk about Vee had been somewhat disconcerting, looking back, Tom couldn’t do anything but fondly shake his head about it. Just taking the first letter of a description as a name. Teenagers.

Since it hadn’t come up again, Tom didn’t bother to dwell on the possibility of multiple voices. If he seriously took it into account, he would be obligated to put it into the official record. As a direct result, Harry was bound to be transferred to St. Mungos. And as much as no one sane wanted to work anymore as Harry Potter’s mind healer, Tom wouldn’t be allowed to continue his work. Glowing reputation or not, he didn’t have enough experience on his record to be considered working for St. Mungos yet. Especially not with such a prominent case.

If Tom took the possibility of a second voice into account, he would lose Harry, his friend, for good. And anyway, as much as Tom liked to think himself superior to most, if _none_ of his predecessors over the years had discovered multiple voices, there was probably no case of it. Right? Right. Tom would just continue under the premise that Harry heard the one voice: Vee.

He still wasn’t certain if the voice acted as an ‘outer’ influence which managed to push Harry into certain actions or if it was just a created companion for the many lonely hours, Harry had to endure as a child.

Harry’s childhood was another can of worms.

Tom still remembered the first time Harry opened up a bit about his time with the Dursleys. It gave Tom more insight into Harry’s relationship with Vee, after all. Although not as much as he would have wanted. 

_“I understand that your childhood isn’t something you want to share, that you don’t want to think back on it, but I need to hear about it from you.“_

_“It is not that easy, Sir.“_

_“Would you try at least - for me?“_

_“It’s not that I don’t want to share with_ you _, Sir. It’s just- I’m not exactly sure what happened. Sometimes I remember it one way, sometimes another. If I’m going to have a past, I prefer it to be multiple choice!_ **_“_ **

_“That’s rather particular. Would you like to tell me about some of those choices, please?“_

_“There was a boy in a cupboard, in darkness and silence. Or was there a boy alone in a plain room, deafened by shrieking noise, and suffocating on the heavy smoke in the air?_

_There was a boy, standing still and watching others tremble in fear. Or was there a boy, running away from others in fear of his life?_

_There was a boy in a white room, not able to move further than a few feet in every direction but with people who fell over themself to please him. Or was there a boy in a castle, with grounds too wide to explore in one day but surrounded by people who went out of their way to hurt him?“_

_Harry paused and looked directly in Tom's eyes with a wistful expression on his face. “If these are my choices, tell me, why should I limit myself to one?“_

Tom had been struck silent because he felt like he _could_ _understand_. While he would have given a lot to erase himself of his circumstances, every situation had also good parts. Strangely enough, he even could find himself in the _choices_ Harry told him about. It made Tom feel more connected with Harry. 

He could easily guess which parts contained Harry’s real past. But he wondered where the boy took his creativity for the other set of memories? Even the part of his mind which manifests itself as Vee shouldn’t be able to make up such defined memories. Tom would love to know if Dumbledore's visits had anything to do with it. All accounts were in agreement that these visits had been the starting point of Harry’s notable change in personality. But Tom knew better than to ask. Harry made it perfectly clear early on that Dumbledore's visits were off-limit. Tom's desk had the marks to remind him of it. 

_“...about Dumbledore's visits…“_

_Green eyes, narrowed displeased, challenging him to continue. Magic flaring out, literally cutting through the room._

_“Don’t test the monster in me.“_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Joker Quotes](https://everydaypower.com/joker-quotes/) in this Chapter: 2, 24, 41, 60, 75, 84, 85 (I think, I'm tired)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Sometimes Harry would watch him hungrily as if he wanted to devour him whole._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta [Sage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeuroWriter14/pseuds/NeuroWriter14). <3
> 
> Originally I planned for a sequel with Harry's PoV and the story around his madness and Dumbledore's visits but as of now: as soon as I'm finished I'll probably never look back.  
> 

Over the next few months, the air between them changed _again_. And it took longer than Tom cared to admit to recognize the reason for it.

Sometimes Harry would watch him hungrily as if he wanted to devour him whole. When the light was dimmed, when there was a candle that shed flickering light over Tom’s face.

But then, in the bright light of the day, the moment would be over. Harry would look disappointed, sometimes even disgusted.   
It wasn’t a reaction Tom was used to receiving.

oOoOoOo

“You said smiling helps you hide your negative thoughts. Does it also help you to manage your fears?“ 

Harry gifted him a lazy smile, which stretched slowly further and further, showing off all of his teeth, till it looked more dangerous than amused. “Oh, but Sir, fear is behind me. Of course, I used to fear it all, but now I fear nothing.“

Tom let a moment of comfortable silence sit between them. “A man with nothing to fear is a man with nothing to love, Harry. Wouldn’t that be a sad existence?“ A reason why Tom loved being a mind healer was that no one dared to call them out over their hypocrisy. Who would have guessed Tom would be one to ever preach the benefits of feeling fear of all things; the sadness of a loveless life? 

Tom didn’t think it possible but Harry’s grin became even more dangerous, dare he say _predatory._ “Do you wanna teach me some fear then? Give me something to _love_?“ And suddenly, without any apparent reason, Tom's perception of Harry’s expression changed. It was no longer dangerous in the sense that Tom prepared himself for Harry to jump over the desk to rip out his throat, but rather that Harry might jump over the desk to rip off his clothes and devour him whole.

As unprompted as the idea came to Tom’s mind he smashed it immediately. They were in a healer/patient relationship, and while Tom might even call them friends in the security of his private thoughts, they were nothing more. Same cloth as a Dark Lord has been cut from or not, Tom had principles and he would adhere to them. 

Since Harry was a teenager - by now sixteen years old and even though nearly being of age still a victim to his hormones - Tom deemed it better to bring the situation back on _safer_ roads and cleared his throat. 

“What about your desire to kill me? I remember you were rather outspoken about it in our first meeting.“ 

Harry threw him that lazy smile again, which Tom admittedly just now as _flirty_ realized. “Please, it's been so long in the past already. I was merely a child as we met. That aside, I won’t kill you because you’re just too much fun. I think you and I are destined to do this forever. Wouldn’t that be great?“

Huh.   
Tom used to desire to live forever. And after fifty years of solitude… he wouldn’t resent companionship while doing so. Harry had proved to be pleasant company. The sheer concept that Tom used to consider killing the boy was nearly laughable, wouldn’t that have been a waste? The knowledge that _he_ seriously attempted to kill the boy was nothing laughable though. Tom was, paradoxically enough, not at all mad about the fact that Harry had killed a part of him. 

oOoOoOo 

Harry stared wistfully at him. “It’s been two years today. What do you want - why are you still here?“

Tom blinked. Was that why Harry had been so quiet these last days? “You might think it odd, but I just want to help you.“

Harry waved his hand through the air as if to sweep Tom's words away. “That’s very nice of you. But you know, it isn’t as if I’m a lost cause or something. I’m also able to experience the desire to help. I want to help you all the time!“

Well, that was a new one. Tom dreaded to ask about Harry’s idea of helping but his curiosity won out in the end. 

“You do?“ 

It just earned him a fond eye roll from Harry.   
“Of course I do - I care about you!“ And wasn’t that a revelation? Tom might have imagined he had spotted one flirtation or another but he always interpreted it as a game for Harry. He was a hormonal teenager, and the Hospital’s Joker to boot. In all the time - the _years_ \- they’d spent together, Harry had never outright stated that he _cared_ for Tom.

“What do you want to help me with?“

Harry pouted adorably and stuck his nose a bit up “Lots of things, actually.“ “Tell me about one of them, then.“ Was Tom too eager? Maybe a bit but Merlin helped him, he was curious. And pleased. So, so pleased to be the subject of Harry’s desire to help, to care about. 

Harry looked at him evenly. Tom thought he saw a glint of something _other_ again in Harry’s eyes.

“Well, your skin for example.“

The intensity of Harry’s gaze made Tom feel faint. At least he managed to let his question sound bewildered “My- my skin?“

Harry's eyes wandered over his face and throat, every glimpse of skin he could find. “Yes, it’s way too even. So- _perfect_. I want to help you make it right. Cut it open, again and again. Till you’re covered in faintly scares - layer above layer. Till the light will reveal a silver net. Till there is a map under my searching fingers, only for me to decipher.“ Harry’s voice became rough, his eyes feverish - and Tom? While there was a faint tremor in his hands, a shudder along his spine- he wanted to think it was in disgust, maybe even fear. But he always made a point to not lie to himself. 

oOoOoOo

_“You look good. Been working out? You could probably use a little sun. Then again, who am I to talk?_ “

oOoOoOo 

Harry seemed to be lost in his mind. Tom couldn’t imagine what had him so concentrated, he was usually rather carefree.

“Tell me, what was the first thing you noticed about me?“  
Tom blinked slowly. He had known it - he would have never been able to guess _that_ line of thought at all.

“What do you mean?“  
“When you first saw me. What did you first notice about me?“   
“Your eyes. The colour reminds me of a spell I used to be particularly fond of.“ Harry’s mouth did the little quirk of his. The one that let him appear much too knowing for his secluded upbringing.

“What brought that question on?“

“Oh, the nurses keep telling me how handsome I am. I wanted to know which part of my appearance registers at first glance.“

A ball of fury grew in Tom's stomach.   
Did the nurses now? Unacceptable. How dare they gush over his… patient. Such unprofessional behaviour should be punished. 

Harry’s piercing gaze pushed Tom’s musings from his mind.  
“Yours are quite average. But in a pretty way, you know?“   
“…Thank you, I guess?“

Harry snorted rowdily. “It wasn’t a compliment. The Dursley’s strived for _average but in a pretty way_ .“ He looked intently in - or rather _at_ \- Tom’s eyes and smiled sweetly. “You should scratch them out. I wouldn’t mind helping you?“

Tom might not lie to himself, but he also didn’t feel the need to name the tingling feeling in his gut when Harry concentrated his entire attention on him and him alone. The words barely registered. Why should they matter, when Harry cared about him?

oOoOoOo

“What do you want for yourself, Harry?“

“Maybe I want you? But I guess everyone would say that I don’t deserve you. You’re their perfect poster boy, after all.“ Tom felt... something. Something he didn’t dare to dwell on. Harry wanted him. Harry said he was perfect. Harry believed he didn’t deserve _Tom_. 

Tom, who had let himself be bound into the corset of society’s rules whereas previously he had wanted to make his own. _He_ had tried to burn it down, but to no avail. He, who was at least as damaged as Harry himself, but just managed to hold on to his polite facade and curb his murderous tendencies better. Harry, who was - despite being locked in in this Hospital - being _free_.

“Don’t let anyone ever make you feel you don’t deserve what you want“

oOoOoOo

Of course, it had to go downhill. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Joker Quotes](https://everydaypower.com/joker-quotes/) in this Chapter: 24, 65, 71, 88


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta [Sage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeuroWriter14/pseuds/NeuroWriter14)<3 
> 
> Finally!  
> The second english fic I’ve ever written is finally up. The first multichap. The first one resembling something like a plot.  
> I‘m so glad it’s finally done, I don’t even care how awful it ended up to be ;-;

Harry was _gone._

Or rather, he had been _stolen -_ by Dumbledore's goons nonetheless. 

Tom stood at the window in his office and stared into the Hospital’s garden without seeing a single thing aside from the shades of green that reminded him of Harry’s eyes.

Harry was gone and Tom was all alone again. It was like the time inside his diary all over again.

Of course, he wasn’t entirely alone. There were still people around. People who couldn't believe why Dumbledore would kidnap the boy - steal him away from Tom. Even after his fall from grace, so many still assumed Dumbledore to be good. It was disgusting. 

So, why should they matter to Tom? They were sheep; washed out background fillers, who couldn’t compare against the brilliant human being that was Harry Potter. 

Harry Potter - the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Vanquisher of You-Know-Who.  
Harry Potter - the Murderer, the Madman, the Joker.  
Harry Potter - his friend, his equal... his _love._

Tom would never forgive himself for following his superior’s decree and leaving the Hospitalground for the first time in nearly three years, for something as useless as a _vacation_ of all things. 

How could they expect him to relax when he was alone by himself, with Harry back in the Hospital? Tom even had been so thoughtful as to ask if Harry would be allowed to accompany him. His seventeenth birthday - and such his potential release - was fast upcoming. It would be the sensible thing to do, to let Harry go on short outings.

His superior had just thrown him a long, dirty look for his reasonable offer.  
How did she - how did the Board - expect Harry to manage his life after his release? He hadn’t been out of the Hospital since his childhood. He hadn’t even set a single foot into the magical world thus far. 

They were just irresponsible. Tom had his mind half made up to quit his job after Harry’s release and look for some other position. Where he wasn’t required to live on the grounds. Or to work with people who tried to pry his patients away from his care like the Hospital board did a few months back.

Harry had made such progress under Tom’s tender care. He was, of course, still always smiling as he had done since his first day, but he was often genuinely happy now. Naturally, most of the time around Tom himself.  
He had opened up to Tom. Now his file wasn’t filled with assumptions but with _truths,_ told by Harry himself. Well, Tom’s private file at least. It wouldn’t do to betray Harry’s trust and spill his most secret thoughts and truths out for just anyone to read. 

To everyone but Tom, Harry had always told quite explicitly where to shove it. At least Tom liked to think he did. It was hard to tell, with all the blood loss and whining. Even with Tom’s _experience,_ it took an awful time and effort to clean their meeting room and sort through his newest planned replacement’s mind till everything was back in order without casting a damning light on his sweet Harry. 

There weren’t even any _accidents_ anymore. Well, barely any accidents anymore. But Harry always had a good reason. And it wasn’t traceable back to him, so all was good. 

Except-

Nothing was good.

Because Harry was _gone_. 

Tom wasn’t ready to be alone by himself again. Without Harry who let him feel so whole like he hadn’t felt since the time _before_. 

Tom balled his fists and straightened his posture. He would work a last day. And then he would quit, leaving this damned place in search of Harry. And he would make an example out of Dumbledore. That he had abandoned the world domination plans of his youth didn’t change a thing about Tom being the cloth from which _he_ had been cut. A Dark Lord who was feared like no other. Feared till even his name wasn’t dared to be muttered. And he would make sure Dumbledore remembered it.

With a flourish, Tom turned on the spot to start necessary preparations, when he met green eyes.

And he knew no more. 

  
  


oOoOoOo

_“Some people say that you can’t be helped.“_

_“Some people just want to see you fail. Disappoint them_.“

oOoOoOo

“-om? Come on Tom, I wasn’t that rough.“

With a jolt, Tom was suddenly awake. 

There was an onslaught of impressions he couldn’t sort through right away. The dripping sound of water, the smell of cold, stale air, the feeling of jagged rocks beneath him. 

And _Harry_.  
Brightly smiling Harry.  
Lovely Harry, healthy and alive.  
Looking at him from above. 

Tom was so relieved, all he wanted was to reach out and cup Harry’s cheek, feel the warmth of him - make sure everything was alright. His eyes flitted over the face that had matured over the years since Tom laid his eyes on it for the first time. Harry was no longer a child but an adult. 

Although Tom hadn’t really been able to keep track of the passing time since Harry’s disappearance - way too troubled by the sudden loss of his daily conversation partner - he was sure that Harry’s birthday had passed. Which meant he _was_ an adult. To be released from the Hospital. Without an assigned mind healer. Tom's gaze sharpened upon the realization that he _could_ touch Harry now if he wanted. And Merlin how he wanted it. He hadn’t dared to dwell on the thought in the past though. 

Tom gathered himself - feeling of his body still a bit sluggish, and Harry’s face lit up as if he knew of Tom's intent - and prepared himself to eventually reached out-

… only to find that he _couldn’t._

Tom blinked and tried again to reach out and finally touch Harry, it just wasn’t possible. Harry’s amused grin turned feral around the edge as he watched Tom recognize just how helpless his current situation was. 

“There, there Tom. No need to work up yourself.“ 

With a single finger, Harry traced the side of Tom's face. Tom stilled at the contact, the _first_ contact, and let himself just feel. His hazy mind latched on the feeling of Harry’s fingertip which roamed softly over his straight nose, dwelled on his full lips, and went back over his cheek to his eyebrow before Harry cupped his face with the palm of his hand. 

Tom wanted to lean in, but he couldn’t _move_.

“Wha-” 

Harry shushed him and placed his thumb over Tom's slightly parted lips to further prove his point. Tom's tongue darted forward and had he been a lesser man he would have cried in delight that he was finally able to touch Harry. In his disoriented state, he barely registered Harry’s considering eyes on the pink flesh of his tongue. 

While his mind cleared he started to feel warmth at his feet, he heard the crackling sound of fire, the blubbering of a substance. _A potion_? There were faint traces of _something_ in the air but he wasn’t able to distinguish them. 

“Harry-” Tom tried to speak around Harry’s finger only for him to push into his mouth and trap Tom's tongue with it. Harry held his chin in an iron grip while fixing him with a criticizing look. The fiery sheen let his usual green eyes look reddish again. 

“Don’t call me that awful average name. I didn’t like it before but indulged you. But now it isn’t even fitting anymore - and will never be again.“ A manic grin appeared, and Harry started absently playing with Tom's tongue, stroking it, pushing lightly in and out of his mouth. “I’m not _just Harry_ anymore. I’m so much more. Once upon a time, little Harry just wanted to not feel so bad anymore. He used to think his life was a tragedy. But now… I realized it’s a comedy. You might as well call me Joker. Rather fitting, don’t you think?“ 

Tom couldn’t think. All he could do was to concentrate on _not_ starting to suck on Harry’s thumb. It wasn't just his feet that felt warm anymore. He was burning all over. 

Harry reminded him of his question by pressing his thumb down hard, prying his jaw further open, and causing Tom to start drooling because he couldn’t properly swallow since the beginning of Harry’s overtures. 

He felt the magic around him loosen its hold, freeing him up and despite his efforts, he couldn’t hold in the small whine upon the loss of its dark presence. The room became instantly brighter as if the magic had not just bound his movements but also dulled his senses. 

Harry smirked down on him, let go of his jaw, and stepped back after a last patronizing pat at Tom’s cheek. 

As if a spell were broken, Tom's mind was free to think again. 

“The staff started calling you Joker because you were always smiling. Always telling _jokes_.“

“And what do you think of the name?“

Tom paused and took in Harry’s appearance. The waif who came to the Hospital years ago had morphed into a fine young man. Lean body, handsome face. Pretty smile - and cruel eyes. 

“I think the Joker isn’t bound by any rules. He is free to do what he wants.“

Harry’s prettily constructed smile widened and widened till it was all teeth and Tom anticipated for Harry to lounge at him and eat him alive.

“Will you kill me now?“

“Oh, _Tom_. I don’t want to kill you, what would I do without you? No, no, no. I’m all alone in my head now, you’re all I’ve got. You complete me.“

Tom's head swam. What did the old fool _do_ to Harry to cause such a shift in him? For him to lose Vee? But then the entirety of Harry’s statement hit him. 

He called him by his name. For the first time since they knew each other. It felt so right and so wrong at the same time, Tom could just barely comprehend it. How hadn’t he noticed before? There was no way Harry would have been able to dull his senses that much, was it? 

As soon as Tom began to contemplate it, the thought was lost again. Why should he care? Harry said he completed him. And wasn’t that exactly what Tom had felt about Harry the entire time? 

Tom was all alone since his birth. Just the half of who he used to be for more than fifty years. Till Harry came around and let him feel more like himself than he had in ages. 

“What’s your plan with me?“

“Do I really look like a guy with a plan with you?“ Harry threw his head back and laughed out loud. A hearty gesture but a cold sound around the edges. 

“You know what I am. I’m a dog chasing shadows. I wouldn’t know what to do with one if I caught it! You know, I just… _do_ things. I now do what other people only dream _._ And while I just can guess what nonsense other people would do if they had the Dark Lord who killed their parents and tried to kill them as a mere bebe at their mercy, I sure know what I want to do, _Tom.“_

Despite the situation, Tom found it in himself to look bashful at the side. So Harry knew about him. He couldn’t imagine _how_ but he felt bad about not telling him. After all, Harry had always been open with him. He should have also been more open. 

Harry snatched his chin again to force Tom’s face back towards him and cooed. “None of that now, Tommy. I of all people can _understand_ you. You know, you wanted to cure me but Madness is the emergency exit. You can just step outside, and close the door on all those dreadful things that happened. You can lock them away… forever _.“_

Tom's mind snatched on _forever_ like he always did when Harry said it. Tom didn’t want to die eventually, he wanted to live forever. He wanted to live forever with Harry. But to live forever with Harry and without the baggage of his childhood, of his past? 

It sounded way too good to be true. There was a reason why Obliviate wasn’t used in therapy, wasn’t it? There had to be, but somehow… Tom couldn't remember.

“As you know, madness is like gravity, all it takes is a little push. And you will let me push you a little, won’t you?“ Harry’s hand caressing his face and his hair while saying those sweet poisoned words was all Tom needed in his life.

“Why would you want to do that?“  
 _Why don’t you leave me behind now that you’re free?_

“Oh, Tom, why wouldn’t I? You complete me, you belong to me. Of course, there is a bit of room for improvement, but isn’t there always? I for one could use some new clothes - look at those rags!“

Harry did a little twirl and sure enough, his clothes were halfway torn apart and splattered with blood. How didn’t he notice it before? Tom looked down on himself and his own spotless set of classic black robes, which let Harry double over laughing. 

“Oh no, Tom. None of that, your clothes don’t need improvement. Your _face_ though - you’re handsome, sure, even above average. But you have the potential to become outstanding. No mere human anymore but something other, something _better_. You’re fond of snakes, aren’t you? Just lean back and let me free you.“ 

Tom shivered under Harry’s heated gaze. The intensity of Harry’s whole attention burned on his skin. He had tried to redeem himself. Had tried to be better than _he_ was but, when it was what Harry wanted of him… 

“It is what you want? To make a monster out of me?“

Harry's gaze turned soft. “Oh, Tom. I stopped checking for monsters under my bed when I realized they were inside all of us. I just want to help you get it out.“

With a last caress of his face, Harry dropped his hand to grasp Tom’s and pulled him to his feet. Finally, Tom could see the origin of the heat, the crackling sounds, and the smells. Over an enormous fire, there was a cauldron even taller than himself. 

Harry led him to a construct of stairs at the side. They took step after step until they reached the top. The leavings of Harry’s preparations still laid on the workbench but Tom couldn’t focus on them. His whole attention was honed in on the brightly yellow, bubbling mass in the cauldron beneath him.

Harry tugged at his hand, and Tom turned around; his back to the potion and like usual, his sole focus back on Harry. 

“Will you let me help you?“   
_I want to help you._

Tom lifted their joined hands and placed a kiss on Harry’s. Never breaking eye contact Tom took a small step back, and another, till he could feel the edge under his feet.

He smiled wistfully, let go of Harry’s hand, and-

He let himself fall over the edge, his eyes never leaving Harry’s and Tom felt free.

  
  
  


.

.

.

  
  
  


There were fingers on his face again, tracing softly all lines and edges. He hummed and the fingertips disappeared only to be replaced by a hand. 

“Welcome back, love.” 

His eyes fluttered open and he saw Harry leaning over him, relaxed and content like he hadn't seen him before. Tom didn’t even try to curb his desire a second time and leaned into the touch. 

The hand felt intense on his skin as if it had never been touched before. He turned his head slightly to place a kiss on Harry’s palm, never losing sight of his face. 

Harry smiled sweetly but let go of him to help him stand up again. 

“Who would have thought, _now_ you have the face fitting for the name Lord Voldemort.“

Tom shivered in the cold air of the cave that had seemed so hot before. Harry wrapped him in a simple robe and brought him over to the edge of the lake. 

He let his eyes wander over the surface, took in the small boat a little distance away, and a minuscule patch of land in the middle of the lake. He refocused on Harry who looked pointedly at the still water directly before them Tom followed his gaze, and-

For the first time in his life, he _saw_ himself. 

Tall and thin, all fat seemingly burnt off him. Gleaming white, nearly silvery skin - covered not in scars, like Harry had wanted to gift him before, but with _scales_. And his eyes - the same red he had imagined on Harry a few times.

Before he could dwell on the differences he caught sight of Harry. Sweet innocent Harry who looked again like he wanted to devour him whole. A faint blush high on his cheeks. 

“Look at you.“ His voice was rough and breathy. “As though we were made for each other. Beauty and the Beast. Of course, if anyone else calls you Beast, I’ll rip their lungs out.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Joker Quotes](https://everydaypower.com/joker-quotes/) in this Chapter: 6, 8, 14, 20, 27, 30, 45, 51, 56

**Author's Note:**

> I have [tumblr](https://ellionne.tumblr.com/) now. I’m not entirely sure what to do with it yet, but feel free to check it out. Maybe throw me a question or something :D


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